


Catch me if you can

by Beleriandings



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Blindfolds, Fluff, M/M, uncomfortable proximity to holly bushes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2014-09-22
Packaged: 2018-02-18 10:34:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2345282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beleriandings/pseuds/Beleriandings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When they are out of sight of their younger brothers, Fingon and Maedhros play a game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catch me if you can

“Curvo, make sure Pityo, Telvo and Arakáno don’t fall in the river, would you please?” shouted Maitimo, craning his neck to where his younger brothers played a game by the riverside, trying to see them. Ambarto wore a blindfold around his eyes, hands flailing ineffectually in the air in front of him as he ran along the river bank, while Ambarussa and Arakáno fled from him, always just ahead of his grasping hands.

Curufinwë, leaning against a tree, looked up from his book in irritation. “Why must  _I_  do it? I would have thought Amil would have put  _you_  in charge, Nelyo.” He smiled sweetly. “What with you being the eldest and all.”

Findekáno drew himself up from where he was leaning against Maitimo’s side. “Listen to your brother” he said stiffly to Curufinwë, before Maitimo could speak. “Maitimo is  _otherwise occupied_  right now.” With a grin, he seized a handful of the front of Maitimo’s shirt, pulling him in for a long, languid kiss, before lying back with a laugh and a contented sigh, his head in his cousin’s lap. Maitimo hummed lightly, running his fingers through Findekáno’s unbraided hair that spilled across his lap in wild curls, still slightly damp from their earlier swim.

Curufinwë rolled his eyes and returned to his book.

“I should go check on them” said Maitimo after a while, glancing towards the riverside. They both listened for a while, hearing their youngest brothers’ whoops and yells although the children had vanished from sight beyond a bend in the river.

“They’re fine!” protested Findekáno, putting more weight on Maitimo’s legs to stop him moving. “Listen to them! They’re having the time of their lives. If any of them fall in we would hear a lot more screeching, I promise.”

 “Amil used to tell the twins off for it when they were younger, and now they’ve taught it to Arakáno too… your father…”

“Atar won’t mind. It’s not even that deep. And even if Arko does fall in, I’m sure he’ll be fine” said Findekáno, unconcernedly. He grinned. “But I bet my brother could take down  _both_  of yours at that game any day, easy. Or at any other game, for that matter.”

Maitimo laughed. “The nerve of you. If Arakáno wins, it’s only because Ambarussa let him.”

“ _Let_  him?” Findekáno reached up and seized the trailing ends of Maitimo’s hair, pulling him down for a kiss, whispering against his lips. “You can’t fool me that easily. No son of Fëanáro ever  _let_  anyone win at anything, and they never will. Too much the sore losers, the whole lot of you.”

“Me? A sore loser? You wound me, Fin.” Maitimo feigned affront, before grinning once more, leaning luxuriantly backwards against the tree. “Well, I suppose we’ll never know. Since, you know, you’ve never beaten me at anything - ” he let out a squawk of protest as Findekáno sat up suddenly, rolling over so that he was on top of Maitimo, pinning him flat against the trunk of the tree, their faces close together. He stayed like that for just a moment, lips brushing tantalisingly close to Maitimo’s, not quite touching, before tickling Maitimo until he let out a yell, rolling until they lay sprawled on their sides in the dirt by the river bank.

“Alright! I yield!” he cried, as Findekáno pinned his wrists to the ground. “You win.” He smirked. “This time. But this isn’t over, I warn you. We shall have to have a rematch later, in a more… uh…  _private_  location.”

“Oh, I plan to. I’m just getting started on - ”

There was an angry cough from behind them, and the snap of a heavy book closing, before Curufinwë’s voice floated towards them. “Ahem. Do you two mind? Some people are trying to read about alloys here…”

———

“They’re too old to be playing that game really” said Maitimo, his voice fretful as they trudged back to the house, the twins and Arakáno trailing behind them sodden and muddy and bickering. Curufinwë was shaking his head and regarding the whole of their little party with some distaste.

Findekáno took Maitimo’s arm as they walked, not answering immediately but leaning against Maitmo’s shoulder, looking smug.

“What?” demanded Maitimo.

“I was just thinking…” he tailed off, suppressing laughter.

“What? What were you thinking?”

He grinned up at Maitimo, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Nothing. Well, not  _nothing_  exactly, but I’ll tell you…  _show_  you… later…”

————

“So?” said Maitimo, as he closed the door of the house behind them at last, having deposited the twins and Arakáno in the bathtub under strict orders to scrub themselves before they had to leave for that evening’s great feast at the palace. Now at last they had a little time to themselves, although here in the garden there was scant privacy to be had, with the windows of the house overlooking all.

Maitimo glanced at the well-known thickets of trees and bushes, and then at the colour of the sky, trying to judge how much time they had.  _Little enough,_ he thought.

Findekáno’s mouth was curving into a smile, as he slowly untied the golden ribbon that held his hair in a single loose braid. Unbound, his hair spilled wildly out across his shoulders and down his back, a profusion of inky black curls the mere sight of which Maitimo found, as ever, utterly intoxicating.

Findekáno held the broad golden ribbon out in front of him, making a show of contemplating it from every angle. “What you were saying” he said nonchalantly, “about our younger brothers being too old for such a game…” he held the ribbon out to Maitimo.

“Oh” said Maitimo, understanding at last. “Well, if they mean to play it as you intend, then I would say they are far too  _young_ , rather than too old…”

Smirking, Findekáno tied the ribbon securely around Maitimo’s eyes. Then he stood on his tiptoes to kiss Maitimo’s lips, a hasty, teasing kiss, before spinning him in a circle and bounding away cackling.

“Fin, I can  _hear_  you” protested Maitimo, feeling his way blindly towards the source of the sound. “There’s no point in this game if I can hear you.”

“Oh, Maitimo” said Findekáno, popping up behind Maitimo’s back. “Sometimes I think you’re more innocent than our little brothers. If you couldn’t hear…” he kissed Maitimo on the back of his neck, wrapping his arms loosely around Maitimo’s shoulders for a brief instant and then darting away before Maitimo could whirl and catch him, sending his cousin stumbling instead “… _then_  there would be no point. You’d never catch anyone.”

“And what do you want me to do with you once I catch you?” asked Maitimo, shambling in the rough direction from where Findekáno’s voice seemed to be coming.

“That’s for you to decide” said Findekáno, dancing out of the way at the last moment, “But first…” he kissed the tips of Maitimo’s outstretched fingers, before leaping away with a laugh “…first, I want to lead you on a merry dance…”

“You always were good at that” growled Maitimo. “Are you going to sing too?”

“If you want me to, my love” Findekáno put on his highest falsetto, pretending to play a harp that was not there. “ _My lover sings a song so sweet, he dances like a dream, but when we dance beneath the sheets, his song is more a scream…”_

“Findekáno!” hissed Maitimo, lunging at his cousin. This time though, Findekáno did not dodge out of reach and Maitimo barrelled directly into him, sending them both sprawling backwards onto the soft grass, and then onwards into the midst of a holly thicket.

Maitimo cursed, extricating his arm which had landed awkwardly beneath Findekáno as he had instinctively reached out to soften their fall. Then he suppressed a yelp as holly scratched at the exposed nape of his neck.

“Oh!” gasped Findekáno, winded and suddenly serious. “Are you hurt?” he gently untied Maitimo’s blindfold, and as he flung it aside tousled copper hair spilled into both their eyes.

“No” said Maitimo, flexing his fingers experimentally. “Although we both easily could have been.” He grinned, suddenly. “Very irresponsible game to play. We’ll both be bruised and scratched and filthy if we keep this up, and look quite reprehensible for dinner at the palace tonight.” He tried to roll them a little way out of the holly’s thorns, while still keeping as much of the thicket between themselves and the windows of the house as possible. 

“We can bathe again after the children are finished” said Findekáno, cheerful again now that the prospect of harm to Maitimo had passed. He pulled Maitimo on top on him. “If we’re short on time, we can even share a bath… no one can fault us for economising…”

“I like the way you think” hummed Maitimo against Findekáno’s lips. His next words were lost, turned to a little gasp of breath as Findekáno’s hand knotted in his hair, the other sliding down his chest to his hip, then to his thigh pulling his leg up and around Findekáno’s waist; the friction from their clothes and their skin beneath sending a delicious shudder of anticipation through him.

“I like the way I think, too” said Findekáno smugly, fingers scrabbling at the laces on Maitimo’s breeches.

“Impatient, are we?”

“Well, I have been wanting you all day” protested Findekáno, his voice thick. “Really, Maitimo, the way you test me…” he was tugging Maitimo’s breeches open as his other hand slipped across the muscles of Maitimo’s stomach and chest, under his shirt. Maitimo held himself above Findekáno, leaning on his elbow carefully even as he kissed him with wild abandon “… it really shouldn’t be allowed for you to be out in public, where it’s not socially acceptable to just…” Findekáno let out a gasp as Maitimo ground down against him “…to just jump you, on the spur of the moment…”

“Well…” said Maitimo, now fighting – though half-heartedly - to keep his composure as Findekáno’s hand found its way into his clothes, wrapping around his hard length and stroking him with deft, practiced fingers “… _ah_ …  _Fin_ …. I suggest that we… uh…”

“Ssh” crooned Findekáno. “Time enough for talk later…”

If anyone for the house had cared to look out the window, they would have seen naught but a discarded golden ribbon, draped across a stand of holly bushes as the light silvered overhead.


End file.
